


Reaching an Understanding

by Isis



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Extra Treat, Gen, Helping an enemy, Trapped, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/pseuds/Isis
Summary: Old enemies are forced to work together.





	Reaching an Understanding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wednesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/gifts).



The trap sprung as Iorveth was on his way to the meeting place. Ordinarily he’d have been more cautious, but this was the outskirts of Vizima, which was now Nilfgaardian territory. The Nilfgaardians were oddly proud of their minor fraction of elven blood, and he hadn’t thought he’d be a target here. 

But apparently he was, because between one instant and the next he found himself dangling upside-down from a rope around his ankles, his body wrapped in a net that held his arms tightly to his sides, preventing him from reaching for his knife and freeing himself. 

Surely his captors were hiding in the underbrush, but still, he cursed them in every language he knew. Then he waited.

Nobody came.

Time passed. He closed his eyes, considering his options.

Then: “It’s that Squirrel, isn’t it.” A female voice, filled with derision, and he opened his eyes and looked at the upside-down features of Ves. 

“Yes,” he said evenly. “It’s that Squirrel. You caught me. Will you kill me now, as though I were a rat? Or let me down and we’ll fight honorably.”

“I didn’t catch you. I was looking for Roche.”

“I haven’t killed him. Haven’t even seen him.”

“Huh.” She paced a few steps away, then came back. She pulled one of her throwing knives from her belt and caressed it fondly. “I _could_ kill you. Maybe I _should_ kill you.”

“You could. But I had thought our battles were in our past.”

She spat. “Just because Temeria is no longer what it was does not mean I will not still fight for it.”

“I am not fighting against it,” said Iorveth. “I am here at Geralt’s request. The new Empress is making a state visit to Vizima, and she is as a daughter to him.”

Ves frowned. “You, too? I found this in Roche’s room.” She took a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it, then held it in front of Iorveth’s eyes. The words were upside-down, but he recognized it instantly. 

“I received the same.”

“Then he can’t be far off.” She started to walk down the path, but he called after her.

“Cut me down.” She turned to look at him. He shrugged, or tried to. Not very effective, hanging from his feet. “Obviously we’re both victims of the same scheme. I’ll help you find him.”

Her expression was disbelieving, but she sliced through the net. When he swung up to grasp the rope above his feet, he held out his hand for her knife, but she shook her head. "Fine," he grumbled, and with difficulty he extracted his own knife from his belt, then sawed through the rope at his ankles and jumped down to land at her side. “All right. Let’s start looking.”

It didn’t take them long. Roche was not much farther down the trail, in a deadfall pit that had been hidden by leaves and other forest debris. He’d been screaming Ves’ name, but they didn’t hear him until they got close; the pit’s walls had muffled his cries, and a nearby waterfall had drowned them out. It took both of them to get him out of the pit, using the rope that had anchored the trap that had caught Iorveth.

When he’d finally clambered out, he nodded at Ves, then turned to Iorveth. “You set a trap for me?”

Iorveth shook his head. “Someone set a trap for us both. Ves freed me.”

“Who – and why?”

Leaves rustled, and Geralt of Rivia stepped out of the forest. “That would be me.”

“Us,” corrected the woman who was following close behind him. She had pale hair pulled back into a messy knot, and a scar on her face, and she wore very fine leathers.

“Empress Cirilla,” breathed Ves. She inclined her head and bent forward slightly, not quite a bow. Roche did the same. 

Bloede Dh’oine, thought Iorveth. Either they were too coarse to understand protocol, or too proud to accept that the so-called “Free Temeria” they had fought for was a thing of the past. He bowed deeply. “Your Majesty.”

“Just Ciri, please. Geralt’s friends don’t need to stand on ceremony.” 

“Odd way to treat your friends,” said Roche, looking at the witcher.

Geralt shrugged. “I wanted to see you all again, and for you,” he nodded at Iorveth, “to meet Ciri. Figured I’d better make sure there wouldn’t be any bloodshed.”

“By _dropping me into a pit?_ ”

“By ensuring we could all meet here first, without any distractions.”

Iorveth crossed his arms. “Well, we are all here. Now that I’m no longer dangling from a tree by my feet.”

“You were...dangling from a tree?” said Roche. The corner of his lip quirked in a smile.

“He was,” said Geralt. “And Ves rescued him, and then he rescued you. So I think everybody’s even, now.”

“Almost,” said Ves. Ciri had moved to her side and whispered something in her ear, and she had nodded. Grinning, the two women stepped forward and pushed Geralt into the pit. “There. Now we’re even.”

“Women,” muttered Roche. He looked at Iorveth, shook his head, then stuck out his hand. “I promise not to kill you at the state dinner tonight.”

Gravely Iorveth took Roche’s hand. “I will also not kill you tonight.”

“I, on the other hand,” panted Geralt as he heaved himself out of the pit with the help of Ves and Ciri, “am going to kill you all.”


End file.
